As some of you may know, last semester I took a Life-Drawing course that alternately pleased and irritated me. I did, however, make a few pretty competent drawings.
February 2009 Archives
Browsing the New York Times site today, I ran across this article and it really set me off. For those of you who don't like reading articles or are lazy, the gist of it is that humanities programs are getting cut increasingly under economic pressure in favor of career-oriented college programs. The rhetoric against them is naturally that they don't provide students with any marketable skills. They are thus forced to justify why they're worthwhile and to prove that students with a humanities background have valuable skills as a part of the workforce.
This hit a nerve for me not only because I'm a humanities major with no marketable skills to speak of, but also because of how similar it is to the problems we've been having at the Gargoyle recently. A few of the harder-nosed members of the Board have argued throughout the past year that the Garg has to prove itself financially viable or risk being eliminated. Now I understand perfectly well that Student Pubs is a business and that in this economy it needs every dollar it can get, but the Gargoyle's value as a educational mechanism for its staff far outweighs the small amount of money it costs to keep it running.
What the Gargoyle, and college humor magazines everywhere, have done for the past century is train the next generation of entertainers in the delicate art of delivering a punchline, spinning a yarn, and crafting an image. The humanities play a very similar role--they teach young adults how to be actual adults. They demonstrate and explain the intricacies, responsibilities, benefits, and downfalls of humanity. They teach you how to pull as much value out of life as you can. Sure, you can tell a joke without having been formally taught how to, just as you can have a belief system without having taken Philosophy. The question is really about quality.
It's easy for the financially-minded people of the world to dismiss this, because there's not often a dollar value put on a worker's ability to think critically or communicate elegantly. A system based solely on economic profitability certainly favors sheer productivity and practical skill in the short term. But it's not a model that can last long. The humanities majors of the world are the engines driving cultural and ideological innovation. They're the people who point out hypocrisy and inconsistency, who remind us of our follies and our strengths. They are key in keeping society fresh and forward-looking, whether as entertainers, artists, journalists, historians, politicians, or just that witty guy in the next cubicle who criticizes the boss.
In the long term, people who have been taught to think critically are just as important as engineers to a healthy economy. Unfortunately, this is something people will only fully realize once we're without them. The humor training that humor magazines provide is critical considering America's current position in the world. More than ever, our main industrial export is entertainment. Somewhere out there, the next great comedian is writing for a humor mag and the next great actor is majoring in Performing Arts. That is, unless someone convinced them that Mechanical Engineering is a much more practical idea.
This hit a nerve for me not only because I'm a humanities major with no marketable skills to speak of, but also because of how similar it is to the problems we've been having at the Gargoyle recently. A few of the harder-nosed members of the Board have argued throughout the past year that the Garg has to prove itself financially viable or risk being eliminated. Now I understand perfectly well that Student Pubs is a business and that in this economy it needs every dollar it can get, but the Gargoyle's value as a educational mechanism for its staff far outweighs the small amount of money it costs to keep it running.
What the Gargoyle, and college humor magazines everywhere, have done for the past century is train the next generation of entertainers in the delicate art of delivering a punchline, spinning a yarn, and crafting an image. The humanities play a very similar role--they teach young adults how to be actual adults. They demonstrate and explain the intricacies, responsibilities, benefits, and downfalls of humanity. They teach you how to pull as much value out of life as you can. Sure, you can tell a joke without having been formally taught how to, just as you can have a belief system without having taken Philosophy. The question is really about quality.
It's easy for the financially-minded people of the world to dismiss this, because there's not often a dollar value put on a worker's ability to think critically or communicate elegantly. A system based solely on economic profitability certainly favors sheer productivity and practical skill in the short term. But it's not a model that can last long. The humanities majors of the world are the engines driving cultural and ideological innovation. They're the people who point out hypocrisy and inconsistency, who remind us of our follies and our strengths. They are key in keeping society fresh and forward-looking, whether as entertainers, artists, journalists, historians, politicians, or just that witty guy in the next cubicle who criticizes the boss.
In the long term, people who have been taught to think critically are just as important as engineers to a healthy economy. Unfortunately, this is something people will only fully realize once we're without them. The humor training that humor magazines provide is critical considering America's current position in the world. More than ever, our main industrial export is entertainment. Somewhere out there, the next great comedian is writing for a humor mag and the next great actor is majoring in Performing Arts. That is, unless someone convinced them that Mechanical Engineering is a much more practical idea.
Guy Maddin is attempting to leave Winnipeg, the city in which he was raised. In order to so, though, he must consciously relive his youth there and try to find new meaning in his memories. He recruits his mother, hires actors to play his siblings, exhumes his father's corpse, and they move back to his childhood home. They reenact events as Maddin traces the history of the city and his relationship with it. The posters for this film read "Guy Maddin's My Winnipeg," which might be a more accurate title. Winnipeg is an intensely personal, extremely subjective look at the city of Winnipeg as the director, Maddin, knew it. The movie is like diving into Maddin's psyche, overtly Freudian but realistic at the same time. Its sometimes excessive surrealism weaves back and forth between solemn, wryly funny, and downright mystifying.
One has the impression throughout the entire thing that it is wrought with complex metaphors whose meaning we can only scratch the surface of, metaphors that Maddin understands completely. Its constantly bleary, sleepy focus and rhythmic editing put the viewer in the mindset of the sleepwalkers who pervade the city's streets. My Winnipeg is mesmerizing and alienating at the same time, filled to the brim with layered meaning and poignant images that create a believable composite of human memory.
SO. I have now sent complimentary artist trading cards to a number of you and currently only have one of my own!
Therefore, I will send the following card to the first person to send ME one. So act fast! Or someone else will get it first! (Although I will make ATCs for anyone who sends me one.)
Therefore, I will send the following card to the first person to send ME one. So act fast! Or someone else will get it first! (Although I will make ATCs for anyone who sends me one.)
A few years ago, I had a notebook in which I recorded all the movies I saw, when I saw them, and how I rated them. Unfortunately, I gradually got out of the habit of maintaining this list in the confusion and excitement of college life. I've thought of starting it up again several times since, but the thought of the big, empty gap filled with unrecorded movies always discouraged me. Since I have this site now, though, with its extraordinary ease of updatability, I've decided to start the list again.
If I write about any new movies I see in this blog, I'll link to those posts on the list page. You may have also noticed that I made a "Projects" page to house the list. I guess I'll let you know if I start on any larger-scale ventures, but that's where they'll end up.
If I write about any new movies I see in this blog, I'll link to those posts on the list page. You may have also noticed that I made a "Projects" page to house the list. I guess I'll let you know if I start on any larger-scale ventures, but that's where they'll end up.
I was awakened this morning at 6:45 by the melodious sounds of a large flock of Ann Arbor crows who had decided to greet the dawn and socialize in the tree directly next to my window. Now, usually the crows don't bother me. I think they're atmospheric and their seemingly random mass movements around town are amusing and mysterious. But if the crows know what's best for them, they'll pick a different place to be noisy at unholy hours of the morning in the future.
For the 45 minutes or so I was awake listening to them, I could help but think of a story Natalie's writing for the issue about the desperate struggle of roving bands of Ann Arbor homeless to rid the city of the evil crow menace. Maybe their presence by my window was a threat. Maybe publishing a potentially revealing exposé about their activities is dangerous. We'll have to see.
For the 45 minutes or so I was awake listening to them, I could help but think of a story Natalie's writing for the issue about the desperate struggle of roving bands of Ann Arbor homeless to rid the city of the evil crow menace. Maybe their presence by my window was a threat. Maybe publishing a potentially revealing exposé about their activities is dangerous. We'll have to see.
I'm once again in a position where I'm not particularly bogged down with schoolwork or Garg-related issues, but I'm counting down the days until Spring Break, which starts at the end of this week. I guess I have had a healthy number of things due this week, but I've gotten all of them done pretty far ahead of time, including a case study on the zebra mussel invasion and the video featured in the previous post.
I think a lot of the eagerness to visit home is puppy-related. I miss my dog, perhaps more in theory than in practice. My mom has advised me not to get a cat next year, but the desire for fuzzy companionship might be too strong. Maybe I'll settle for a rat or something.
On Friday, I had an "Apocalypse Nachos" party, which entailed me making nachos for some friends, then watching Apocalypse Now with them so I didn't have to go see it at screening. This was a success. There was also much pineapple.
On Saturday, in lieu of romance, I attended a planning meeting with some Garg staffers and board members about the magazine's future considering the current economic difficulties. It wasn't entirely grim, but some big changes are in the offing.
Moving on to news not related to me, Jonathan Visger (who you might remember from Bowling with Mason Proper) has been turning out increasingly interesting music for his solo project (under the name Bug Lung Baby), and has started a blog documenting his progress. You should check it out.
I think a lot of the eagerness to visit home is puppy-related. I miss my dog, perhaps more in theory than in practice. My mom has advised me not to get a cat next year, but the desire for fuzzy companionship might be too strong. Maybe I'll settle for a rat or something.
On Friday, I had an "Apocalypse Nachos" party, which entailed me making nachos for some friends, then watching Apocalypse Now with them so I didn't have to go see it at screening. This was a success. There was also much pineapple.
On Saturday, in lieu of romance, I attended a planning meeting with some Garg staffers and board members about the magazine's future considering the current economic difficulties. It wasn't entirely grim, but some big changes are in the offing.
Moving on to news not related to me, Jonathan Visger (who you might remember from Bowling with Mason Proper) has been turning out increasingly interesting music for his solo project (under the name Bug Lung Baby), and has started a blog documenting his progress. You should check it out.
Our second project in my SAC 301 class had two parts; one was making a 60-second sound piece without video and the second was being given someone else's sound piece and making video for it. This is the result of that second part.
Over the past few months,
I've been watching the TEDtalks podcast, learning a ton (you should too!), and getting continued and much-needed inspiration to keep hacking away at all the projects I have in various states of existence. I found this one exceptionally interesting both for its delivery and content (and of course its anecdote about Tom Waits). I really recommend giving it a watch.
I was sent a link to this more than a month ago, and I may not be a man, but I think it contains sensible and inspiring advice for men and women alike. I also think it deserves as much exposure as possible, since more men should pay attention to what it has to say...
The Art of Manliness
The Art of Manliness
This past Thursday was marked by distinct anger and frustration as a stupid oversight on my behalf ruined my first attempt at making sourdough bread, an endeavor I had been working on for the past week, at least in that I had been nursing a home-made sourdough starter for several days. I recovered from my disappointment, however, and made a second attempt yesterday after I'd built the starter back up again. I think it turned out pretty well.
That's my starter there in the back, still bubblin' away. The two loaves look a little different in color because our oven is apparently as temperature-challenged as our range, and the first loaf got a little burned, so I turned the temperature down for the second one and it ended up a little pale. Still crusty and delicious, though! I wouldn't mind it if they had risen a little more vertically, but I seem to never have the patience to wait more than 2 hours or so on the second rising. Also still working on scoring successfully. I think I finally found one of Danielle's Cutco knives that's sharp enough for the job, but it doesn't accomplish much if the bread doesn't want to expand much.
In other news, we've been having a spell of unseasonably warm weather, a welcome change from what has so far been a frigid and snowy winter. I know it's just a tease, but my body is convinced that it's spring and filling me with spring happiness. Michigan is a cruel mistress.
That's my starter there in the back, still bubblin' away. The two loaves look a little different in color because our oven is apparently as temperature-challenged as our range, and the first loaf got a little burned, so I turned the temperature down for the second one and it ended up a little pale. Still crusty and delicious, though! I wouldn't mind it if they had risen a little more vertically, but I seem to never have the patience to wait more than 2 hours or so on the second rising. Also still working on scoring successfully. I think I finally found one of Danielle's Cutco knives that's sharp enough for the job, but it doesn't accomplish much if the bread doesn't want to expand much.In other news, we've been having a spell of unseasonably warm weather, a welcome change from what has so far been a frigid and snowy winter. I know it's just a tease, but my body is convinced that it's spring and filling me with spring happiness. Michigan is a cruel mistress.
A few minutes ago I returned from a long-postponed walk around the beautiful neighborhood to the south of my apartment. The weather today nice and warm, my roommates and friends are for the most part out somewhere else enjoying the Superbowl, and I needed to get out the apartment and get some exercise before I could start on my Film History paper.
It was an extremely enjoyable and illuminating walk. I got to admire the extremely varied and eccentric mix of architectural styles around here and discover a variety of places I didn't know existed, including a t-shirt printery, a VCR repair shop, an elementary school, a church, and a bike shop. It's amazing to me that not more than a block away from the tedium and silliness of areas of college housing there are these beautiful, quiet, and friendly communities of actual legitimate people.
I also found a poor discarded clip-on bow tie in the middle of an intersection. I brought it home and plan to nurse it back to health before releasing it back into its natural habitat.
Recently I've had a strong desire for domesticity, or at least my idea of domesticity. I want a house with a yard and a well-equipped kitchen. I want a warm evening in the late spring with the windows open, sitting on the couch with a dog next to me. I want to walk to an ice cream shop, get a cup of sorbet, and eat it sitting on a bench at the riverside, watching the sun set.
I don't suppose any of these desires are particularly strange or unique, but I can't help but think that they're not really what I should be fantasizing about at this point in my life, when I should be more excited about getting a job and doing things I'm passionate about. Maybe it has something to do with being bored of winter and wishing spring would hurry up and get here. I don't know.
Anyways, the sounds, smells, and sights of snow and ice melting always fill me with anticipation and all kinds of notions. It was a nice walk.
It was an extremely enjoyable and illuminating walk. I got to admire the extremely varied and eccentric mix of architectural styles around here and discover a variety of places I didn't know existed, including a t-shirt printery, a VCR repair shop, an elementary school, a church, and a bike shop. It's amazing to me that not more than a block away from the tedium and silliness of areas of college housing there are these beautiful, quiet, and friendly communities of actual legitimate people.
I also found a poor discarded clip-on bow tie in the middle of an intersection. I brought it home and plan to nurse it back to health before releasing it back into its natural habitat.
Recently I've had a strong desire for domesticity, or at least my idea of domesticity. I want a house with a yard and a well-equipped kitchen. I want a warm evening in the late spring with the windows open, sitting on the couch with a dog next to me. I want to walk to an ice cream shop, get a cup of sorbet, and eat it sitting on a bench at the riverside, watching the sun set.
I don't suppose any of these desires are particularly strange or unique, but I can't help but think that they're not really what I should be fantasizing about at this point in my life, when I should be more excited about getting a job and doing things I'm passionate about. Maybe it has something to do with being bored of winter and wishing spring would hurry up and get here. I don't know.
Anyways, the sounds, smells, and sights of snow and ice melting always fill me with anticipation and all kinds of notions. It was a nice walk.
